Explode
by DragonLady37
Summary: He spun, wand out, expecting Potter, and there she was instead. Hermione Granger, a look of fear on her face, wand pointing toward the floor. Draco stared at her, chest heaving, tears unleashed and coursing down his cheeks...His wand fell from his fingers as he fell to his knees, folding forward so that his face was in his hands. "I'm sorry," he muttered. / AU, DRAMIONE
1. Explode

**Here's a one-shot for you! Everything up until Half-Blood Prince, where Draco runs to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom is canon, but everything after is up in the air. I hope you enjoy this, even though it's pretty short and I don't plant to go anywhere else with it. Reviews always appreciated!**

* * *

Draco rushed down the hallway as tears threatened to spill forward, desperate to get to the bathroom. He was just about to dart in - he knew Myrtle would at least be there, someone to talk to, to calm him down - when he felt eyes on him.

_Potter. _He'd followed him.

A split second decision led him to dart away from the second floor bathroom and down another hall. He didn't think, he just moved, working on instinct. He ran at a full tilt and slowly that feeling of someone following vanished.

Before he realized it, he was in front of the Room of Requirement. He'd been here so much lately for that damned vanishing cabinet, he didn't want to go in. But he needed somewhere, anywhere, to go where he could just let it all out. He closed his eyes tight and walked in front of the wall, back and forth, three times thinking: _Somewhere safe. Somewhere safe. Somewhere safe_. And before him appeared a door.

Hot tears poured down his face as he threw the door open and nearly fell in, catching himself on the back of a couch that sat in front of a fireplace. His chest heaved and he let himself lower his walls, the ones he kept up to make sure that nothing slipped out, that no weakness showed.

The door behind him clicked shut and suddenly he felt someone's eyes on him again. He spun around, wand out, expecting Potter, and there _she_ was instead.

Hermione Granger, a look of fear on her face, stood, hands at her sides in fists, wand pointing toward the floor.

Draco stared at her, chest heaving, tears unleashed and coursing down his cheeks. Rage filled him up - that she, of all people, was seeing him like this. He felt his wand hand start to shake, felt his heart pound, and then, it all drained away and he was left with nothing but exhaustion.

His wand fell from his fingers as he fell to his knees, folding forward so that his face was in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath hot on his hands where he held his face, eyes closed tight. "I'm so fucking sorry." He was barely whispering.

Her hands were suddenly on the back of his head. He thought he felt her shaking. Slowly she stroked the back of his head, as one might a small child. This only made him cry harder, shame filling him up.

"I'm sorry, Granger. I'm so sorry." His fingers clawed his face as he tried to curl in on himself more, to escape the hell that was his reality.

"Sssh," she said, as she moved closer. With hands that no longer shook, she maneuvered so that she was right next to him. She changed her ministrations, carding her fingers through his hair instead of petting him, and that simple sensation of her nails gently dragging against his scalp calmed it. It's what his mother used to do when he had nightmares.

After a few minutes, he could breathe again. Face burning, he slowly sat up and wiped his nose crudely on the back of his arm. He couldn't meet her eyes, but she didn't get up to leave.

"Are you all right?" she asked, quietly, and he couldn't help the rude, humorless laugh that escaped his lips. He gathered up what tiny bit of courage he had and looked at her, knowing his eyes were red and swollen, hollow and dark, knowing she'd be looking back at him with pity.

"Do I look like I'm all right?" His voice was gruff and he set his jaw, waiting for her to hex him or leave. Or both.

She watched him for a moment before she stood. He felt panic begin to well up again, though he knew this would happen.

"Malfoy," she said, and he looked up at her. She was offering him her hand.

He felt hollow as he reached up and took it, surprised to find her skin soft and cool.

She led him over to the couch, in front of the fire, and sat, then patted the seat next to her. Stiffly he sat, not sure what to do. He'd come in here to be safe. The fact that she could get in the room at all meant that she wouldn't hurt him.

"You apologized to me," she said, breaking the silence. Her eyes hadn't left his face. He looked at her and saw no judgement there. Her face was open and honest and it made something in him that was hanging by a threat _snap. _

Draco sighed so loudly it growled deep in his throat and he put his elbows on his knees and covered his face again. He brushed his hair back, roughly, and sat back, then looked back at her.

"I did." He took a breath. "I meant it." His voice was gravelly.

"Can you tell me - " she looked away for a brief moment and bit her bottom lip, then looked back at him with wide eyes, hands clasped in her lap. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He watched her for a moment, grimacing, and then closed his eyes as if in defeat. "I can't tell you," he said, brushing his hair off his forehead. "But, I can show you." He looked at her, his nerve endings raw. "If you really want to know."

"I do," she said without hesitation. She scooted closer to him, her knee brushing against his. "Please."

Like some final door slamming in place, hearing Hermione say _please _cemented a decision he didn't realize he'd been battling.

He would show her, show her _everything_, and let her decide his fate.

In front of them, a pensieve appeared. Draco searched for his wand, only to realize it was in the floor. Before he could retrieve, Hermione offered him hers and he felt his heart stutter. With a nod, he brought the tip of his wand against his temple and drew a long silver threat from it before depositing it in the pensieve. He did it twice more before offering her wand back. Three memories. He hoped they would be enough.

Hermione slipped her wand into her pocket and looked at him. With a deep breath, she turned and immersed herself in his memories.

* * *

The memories play one after the other.

Hermione stands, off to the side, while a thirteen-year-old Draco tells his mother about a witch that broke his nose. He goes on and on about how angry she was, about how his friends just stood there while she punched him. She didn't even use magic. His mother is smiling as Draco pauses, his head dropping down. "I think I like her, Mother. Really _like _her. But, she's muggleborn, and I don't know what Father would - " Lucius walks in, and both mother and son grow quiet.

The memory swirls and suddenly she's in the dungeons, in Snape's classroom. Snape is staring at Draco, digging into his mind. Trying to teach him Occlumency - how to keep someone out of. Malfoy is straining, and then in anger he rears back and smacks his hands down on the table. "He's going to see her if he looks. I can keep all the memories away, but not the ones of her. I can't do this!" He knocks a glass of water off the table and it shatters on the classroom floor. "He's going to see her, and he's going to kill her!" Snape looks at him with sadness in his eyes, something Hermione had never seen before.

"Have you considered just telling Miss Granger how you feel?" His voice is quiet, but the words echo in Hermione's ears as if he'd screamed them.

Draco laughs darkly. "Of course not." He spits the words out. "Besides, how would that, how would having the one _tiny_ thing in my life that gives me hope, even if I know it's all fiction, make anything better?" Snape puts his hand on Draco's shoulder, and Draco sinks in defeat.

The third memory is the hardest to watch.

Draco is kneeling on a rug in what she assumes is Malfoy Manor. Beside him, his mother and father are on their knees, wands pointed at their foreheads by two men who terrify Hermione so much she backs up, forgetting for the moment that she's in a memory. Her eyes, wide and panicked, move back to Draco who is staring up at Voldemort. Draco's face is defiant, his hands in fists at his side, his jaw set.

"Young Malfoy," Voldemort's voice oozes through the room, "it is time for you to make a choice." Voldemort stands in front of him, and Hermione can't see his face, but the look on Draco's face lets her know she doesn't want to. Her eyes are glued to Draco's. "I will let you choose, which is a gift I've not given many others. You can choose to take my Mark, and you and your parents will live, or, you can choose not to take it, and I will kill them both." He shrugs - such a human gesture from such an inhuman thing. Voldemort puts his hand on Draco's shoulder, and Draco flinches. "It's up to you."

Draco looks over to his mother, whose eyes are wide and glassy. Tears trail shamelessly down her alabaster cheeks. He then looks to his father, whose face is blank - an expression Hermione had seen Draco wear so many times, it hurts her chest.

With a deep breath, Draco looks up to Voldemort, and with hatred in his eyes, offers the monster in front of him his left arm. When Voldemort's wand touches the unblemished skin there, Draco screams in agony.

* * *

Hermione pulled herself from the memories, and Draco was no longer beside her. She stood up, slightly disoriented, heart racing, only to find him a few feet away, looking toward the fire.

"Can I see the Mark?" she asked, her voice shaking with tears that she wanted to shed, but didn't. Now wasn't the time. Draco nodded, but made no move to come closer.

Hermione crossed the distance to him and stood in front of him. With a clenched jaw he shoved his arm out toward her, palm up.

Her fingers were steady as she unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and rolled the sleeve up. There, just like she saw in his memory, was the Dark Mark. It was red and swollen, almost as if his body was trying to reject it, but there it was. It was ugly and hateful and she hated that it was on his skin.

Despite how it disgusted her, with cold fingers she reached out and touched it. He hissed in surprise, then sagged slightly when her cool touch soothed the perpetual ache the Mark caused. She ran her fingers over it, then covered it with her palm like a cool bandage.

After a moment, she pulled away, and Draco opened his eyes. When did he close them?

She looked up at him in the firelight without a hint of judgement in her ochre eyes. He felt the words bubble up without his consent, and without a hint of hesitation, he released to her all the things he didn't want her to even know.

"He wants me to kill Dumbledore." The words were heavy on his tongue. "I've come to this room every night for months trying to fix something, a cabinet, that will let them in to Hogwarts. And I don't - " tears threatened to choke him again. "I don't know what to do."

Hermione was still for a moment, staring down at his arm, which hung loosely at his side. Then she looked up, her eyes locking with his, and pulled him to her in a crushing hug.

Hermione was much smaller than him, but she didn't let that stop her from pulling his head to her shoulder as she wrapped her thin arms as far around his broad shoulders as she could.

"I'm so sorry, Draco." Her voice, his _name,_ ghosted over his ear and suddenly his arms were around her, too, holding on as if she were a lifeline in a storm.

Her arms around him tightened as he squeezed her and buried his face in her hair where it rested against her neck. His tears fell anew, hot and heavy, but now he let them fall freely, soaked up by her curls.

Her hands rubbed lines up and down his back, over his shoulder blades, and he absently realized she was standing up on her toes to hug him. He tried to pull away, knowing she must be uncomfortable, but she only let him lean back a little. She dropped to her feet from the tips of her toes and pulled him toward the couch.

She sat and pulled him to her, forcing him to lay his head on her thighs and lay across the other half of the couch. He settled on his side as if he were in a dream. She put one hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, while the other carded through his hair. He looked up at her, and she stared off into the fire, her features pinched. He rolled so that he was on his back, and she stopped stroking his hair, her other hand absently moving to rest on his sternum.

After a moment she looked down at him, her eyes unreadable. "If you don't fix the cabinet, and kill - " she took a deep breath. "And kill Professor Dumbledore, what will happen?" her voice was quiet and she gathered a little of the shirt on his chest in her fingers.

"He'll kill my parents. Then he'll kill me after I watch them die."

Her eyes closed as if she were in pain, and then she looked back at him, her light brown eyes taking on the firelight in a way that made them burn.

"How can I help you?" Her fingers, clutching his shirt, tightened and he felt something in his chest. It was almost like a new door, one he hadn't realized was there, opened just a crack.

"I don't know."

She nodded, lost in thought again.

"I want to help you," she said firmly, looking down at him.

Slowly, he sat. Her hand fell away from him, but he took it back up and held it in his own. It was warm now and his heart raced. He'd imagined holding that hand so many times.

"You saw my memories," he said, gently cradling her small hand in his two larger ones. "You know how I _feel._" His voice was broken. "About my parents, and - " he took a breath, "and about you. And you know that I can't let them die, no matter what."

"I know." She laced her fingers with his and squeezed. "But together, we can figure out a way." Her other hand joined her first and she clutched him. "I know we can."

They stayed that way, holding onto one another, talking in bits and snippets, for hours. It was well past curfew by the time they'd agreed to meet back there the next day.

* * *

When Draco reached the wall where the room was, a door was already there. He steeled his nerves, straightened his shirt - when had his clothes gotten so baggy - and walked in.

Hermione was already there, books strewn over a table that had appeared in place of the couch. The fire roared cheerfully in the hearth.

Her head popped up when the door opened, her expression guarded. But when she saw that it was him, her features softened.

Seeing him had made her almost smile. The door in his chest opened wide. So wide, it hurt.

"I've been thinking," she said. He approached her warily, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt. All of this was so bizarre. "What if we figure out a way to fix this cabinet so that the Death Eaters can get through, but then, just before they exit, it - " her eyes met his, fear blatant as she swallowed. "It kills them." She swallowed and clasped her hands in front of her.

"Granger," he whispered.

"I know it's a lot," she said, standing, wringing her hands. "But I stayed up all night thinking, and I just don't see another way." She paced in front of him and his hands itched to reach out and calm her, as she'd calmed him the day before. "I considered turning the cabinet into a trap, a stasis chamber of sorts, but then You-Know-Who would _know _that you'd messed it up on purpose. But, if we made it, I don't know, _explode_ or something, it would seem like it was an accident." She took a deep breath and stopped in front of him. "It would protect your parents from his anger." She reached out and took his hand, which stopped his twitching fingers.

He felt a calm wash over him. It would protect his parents. It wouldn't protect him, but they would be safe. And if the Dark Lord killed him for failing, Granger would be safe, too, because The Dark Lord would never be able to see her in Draco's mind. His features calmed as he quickly - more quickly than he'd thought possible - accepted his fate.

He realized, belatedly, that she was still talking, and he zeroed in on the last of her words.

" - be a big change, but you'd be _safe._"

"Wait, what? I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Her eyes on his were wild, as if she were near panic. Something she'd said - she thought he was disagreeing with her.

"I'm sorry," he said, releasing her hands to rub her upper arms - something he'd imagined doing for years. He wasn't sure what twist of fate had led him here, but even if he died in a few weeks, it would be worth it to have had these few moments with her. "I was just thinking. Planning. I didn't hear."

Eyes still wild, she stared up at him and set her jaw. "I said," her voice was strained, choked with unshed tears, "he'll hurt you, if you do this. Maybe even kill you." She choked on that word and cleared her throat, eyes closing a moment before she straightened her spine and met his gaze again. "But we could fake your death. When the cabinet is destroyed. We could fake your death, along with the others, and then hide you, and I _know _it would be a big risk, a big change, but _you'd be safe_, and - "

Draco crushed her to him in a hug, the open door in his chest beckoning, begging him to just step through.

He felt her arms slip around his waist. Felt her cheek against his chest. Felt her take a deep breath as she gripped the fabric of his shirt on his back.

He held her tightly, almost painfully, and forced himself to relax his grip a little. She didn't relax hers.

"Will you help me?" he whispered, the words slipping easily from his lips. He'd never asked for help before. She nodded into his chest and the leaned back just enough to look up at him, her face a mask of determination and something else he couldn't quite place.

"We'll fix the cabinet. We'll kill the monsters coming through. And we'll hide you." Her hands slid from his back to his chest and he thought his heart might burst. "We'll need to tell a few people - Dumbledore, maybe McGonnagall. They'll be able to help us hide."

"Us?" he asked, staring down at her with a heart that pounded almost painfully.

"You'll be in hiding. Alone." She straightened her spine and shook her head to knock her hair off her shoulders, lifting her chin. She rambled, "I know that, if he agrees to this, Dumbledore will want you to help. And whatever he decides, you shouldn't have do it alone. And I know I'm not your first choice for a companion, but you'll need someone, and you've had to do so much alone already, and - "

Draco crushed her to him again. Before yesterday, he'd watched her, dreaming of an alternate universe where maybe, just maybe, she'd care about him in some way. And now she was in his arms, telling him, rather sternly, that he _had _to accept her help. He felt a laugh bubble up and she pulled away, an angry expression on her face.

"The thought of working with me makes you _laugh_?" Her face screwed up in a way that let him know she was about to launch into a speech. He'd watched her lecture her friends often enough, watched her stand and deliver her speeches to listless classes, and she was about to speak to him the same way. As if she cared about him. A smile stretched over his face and she wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth to chastise him. He felt the wide open door inside of him beckoning, bright light spilling out.

And he stepped through.

His lips were on hers before he could process what he was doing. She froze, eyes wide, and then almost immediately, she softened. Her hands moved from his chest to the back of his neck and he moved his hands from her waist, into her hair. He cupped her face, his lips nipping at hers lightly, and against his mouth, she sighed.

The door closed, but he was on the other side now. In a new room that felt warm and safe. _Somewhere safe. _He'd asked the Room of Requirement for somewhere safe, and now here he was.

He pulled away from her and leaned his forehead against hers, his heart ricocheting off his ribs. When he was finally brave enough to straighten his spine, pulling away from her, and open his eyes, his breath caught. She looked up at him, bottom lip between her teeth, lips pulled into a smith, eyes bright.

"Are you sure?" he asked, hands still in her hair, hoping she knew what he was asking. _Are you sure you want to help me? Are you sure you want me, as I am? Are you sure about all of this?_

Her cheeks were tinged pink and she blinked slowly. Her bottom lip popped from between her teeth and she stood on her toes so that she was nearly eye level with him. With a slowness that made his heart seize she pressed her lips to his again, just once, before pulling back.

"I'm sure." Her breath teased his damp lips and he shivered before pulling her to him, attacking her mouth with a desperation he didn't know existed.

And to make it all even more unbelievable, she reciprocated. Her fingers found purchase in his hair as she licked his bottom lip, asking to deepen their kiss. He opened his mouth and groaned when her tongue met his. His hands disentangled from her curls and swept down her back, landing on her hips.

He was kissing Hermione Granger, and even more unbelievably, she was kissing him back. He knew that for her to survive, he would have to die - or at least, the Dark Lord would need to believe he was dead. Occlumency or no, he'd never be able to suppress the memory of this. Every breath spent kissing her was healing things in him he hadn't even realized were broken.

When he finally did pull away, they were both breathless. He stepped back a little, though he didn't want to, and looked down at her. Her cheeks were red, her curls were wild in the aftermath of his hands and their magics reacting to one another, and her lips were turned up in the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen.

"We only have weeks to finish. To figure this out," he said, giving into the desire of his hands and cupping her face, brushing tendrils of hair behind her ears. She leaned into his touch and nodded.

"We better get to it then." She smiled and stepped back, taking his hand as easily as if she'd done it a million times, and led him to the table.

They sat, shoulder to shoulder, and began pouring through the books she'd brought. And while Draco wasn't sure if this would work, wasn't sure if they'd be able to pull it off, he felt calm. He glanced at Hermione, who was already scribbling notes from a book called _Magical Explosions and How to Avoid Them_, and knew that, one way or another, because of her, everything was going to be all right.


	2. Booby Trap

**After some lovely requests, I've decided to add to this world. After this, it may just be a series of snippets (if I decide to add anything at all), but I'm so flattered that some of you wanted MORE from this version of Dramione. Love to you all!**

**Warning: some mildly graphic images are included.**

**Disclaimer: JK owns all. I own nothing.**

* * *

The cabinet was finished weeks before it was supposed to be. Long, sleepless nights spent in the Room of Requirement with Hermione had yielded great results, and with the help of a few professors, they'd perfected the curse that would cause it to explode when a specific word was said. They'd turned the cabinet into a booby trap.

Tonight was the night and Draco's hand shook as he waited, alone, in the Room. He'd sent the owl to his father that morning to set things in motion.

_Father,  
__My end of year project has been completed early.  
Please send the supplies I need for my final project at your earliest convenience.  
__Draco_

He hadn't received a reply, but knew the Death Eaters would be on their way through the cabinet that night. He'd wanted to go to dinner first, to see his friends for the last time, but he knew that wasn't a good idea. He wouldn't be able to act normally, he knew that, but more than anything, the thought of going to another dinner, of sitting with his friends and watching Hermione avoid looking at him at all, was too much. It distracted him, and he couldn't be distracted tonight.

He was alone in the Room and sat, staring at the cabinet, as he had for so many nights. Before, coming to this Room had felt like dying slowly. He hadn't been able to eat, to sleep. And then Hermione had come into the Room with him, into his life, had taken the reins, and now this was a place of strange hope. Hope for a future he'd never let himself imagine where he was free of the darkness. A future with Hermione.

"Draco?"

He spun at the whisper, panic welling up as Hermione stepped fully into the Room, her bottom lip red from where she'd been worrying it between her teeth.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, crossing the room to her and grabbing her shoulders in hands that still shook. "It's not _safe._"

"I said I wouldn't leave you alone," she said, her breaths quick, her eyes wide.

"You're not supposed to be here for this," he said, his chest tight with panic. There was a risk, being here. The cabinet was going to _explode._ He had a plan to keep himself safe. But if somehow they got through, she couldn't be here. "You have to be far from here when they come through." His voice was a harsh whisper.

"I didn't want you to be alone," she said as tears welled in her eyes.

"Granger," he said as he released her shoulders and cupped her face. He kissed her lips, swollen from chewing on them and she sobbed against his mouth. "I'm going to be fine. You know the plan," he said, pulling away, taking in her wide, panic-stricken eyes.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a breath, her hands gripping his forearms. "You come here, _alone,_ to let them in." She swallowed, her breathing ragged. "I make sure I'm seen in the Great Hall at the end of dinner, act appropriately shocked when I hear the explosion - " her eyes pressed shut and tears slipped through her lids, trailing down her cheeks. "After dinner, I find McGonagall and she brings me to you. Where you'll be. _Safe._" She breathed the last bit.

"Dinner is set to start soon," he said, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "You should go."

Hermione's eyes widened in panic as she looked over his shoulder at the cabinet. Her eyes locked on his and then her arms were around his neck, her lips were on his, and she kissed him with such fervor he took a step back. He sank into her, his arms crushing her to his chest as her tongue flicked the seam of his mouth. He opened his lips to her and pulled her even tighter as her tongue danced against his.

After a moment that was over far too soon, she pulled away, pressing her forehead to his, her breaths stuttering with suppressed feeling.

"I love you," she whispered, and his eyes opened wide. She tightened her grip on his neck, in case he decided to pull away. "I _know_ everything is going to be fine. I _know_ this will work. But I couldn't let you do this, let you fake-die, without telling you how I felt first." Another tear slipped down her cheek.

He opened his mouth, but she stopped him from speaking by kissing him again, softly, her hands soft against his cheeks.

"I'll see you in a little while," she said, and then she was gone, Draco still standing there, unspoken words heavy on the tip of his tongue.

She loved him.

For years, he'd loved her, obsessed over her, worried for her. And then she had agreed to help him, to hold him, to kiss him, and he'd been sure that whatever they had would pass. He just knew that once the threat was gone, she would pull away, but he told himself it would be enough. Being with her like this, even in secret, even for a few short weeks, was more than he'd ever imagined.

And now, she loved him.

He looked at the cabinet. He went over the plan in his head. They would come through soon, in the next hour, and when they did, he would need to follow the plan perfectly so he'd be safe. He had to stay safe, so he could find her, and tell her he loved her too.

* * *

Dinner was nearly over. The last hour having dragged by so slowly. Draco stood, staring at the cabinet yet again, wand drawn.

The cabinet had started to vibrate. He put a strong locking charm on the outside, and the inside had been magically expanded to fit those coming through. It shook nine times with the impact of people stepping through before the doors were shaken from the inside.

"Nephew," Bellatrix's voice sang out as she jiggled the handle and it failed to open. "Nephew, open the door!" Her voice was sickly sweet, which meant she was angry.

"I have to make sure you are who you say," he said, not having to fake the fear in his voice. She'd expect him to be afraid of this. He wasn't known for his bravery. If he weren't afraid, she'd be suspicious.

"Open the door, welp." That was Fenrir Greyback. He hadn't expected him to be here. Greyback was nearly as evil as the Dark Lord. Killing him would be an added bonus.

"I need to know who's with you," Draco said, his voice shaking. "I need you each to say your name before I can open the doors." He swallowed, wand outstretched, hand shaking. "I - I can't let you through unless I know for sure."

"Good boy," Bellatrix sang out. "Keeping the Dark Lord's best interests at the forefront of what you do."

One by one they called out their names, their voices ranging from bored to angry.

_Bellatrix Lestrange_

_Corban Yaxley_

_Fenrir Greyback_

_Amycus Carrow_

_Alecto Carrow_

_Thorfinn Rowle_

_Garrett Gibbon_

_Anthony Avery_

_Julius Jugson_

"I've enchanted the cabinet to open with a password," Draco said, keeping his voice from shaking more than it had been. "That way, if anyone came through who shouldn't, I could keep them contained. But you have to be the one to say it. It won't work from out here." He took a deep breath and pulled the shield charm into his mind, ready to use it.

"And the password is?" Bellatrix asked, her voice getting higher in pitch. She was getting irritated with the delay. "We need to get on with this so you, sweet, sweet nephew can _kill Dumbledore,_ and we can bring a little chaos into this wretched castle." The cabinet rattled as someone tried to push open the door again.

"_Mirum victoria,_" Draco said as steadily as he could. "Once you say it, the door will open, and we can begin."

He thought of Hermione. Her lips. Her hands. Her eyes. Her words.

_I love you._

"This feels like a trap," Yaxley said, his voice oily.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix screeched. "My sweet Drakey is just thorough. _Careful._"

"Then you say it," Greyback growled.

Draco lifted his wand. _Protego Maxima. Protego Maxima. Protego Maxima. _He repeated it over and over in his head, ready to cast the charm wordlessly.

"_Mirum victoria,_" Bellatrix almost sang, her voice gleeful. There was a beat of silence. Someone tried to door handle. And then the cabinet, in a burst of silent energy, exploded outward.

_Protego Maxima! _Draco shouted in his mind, throwing out a shield a few feet in all directions. The blast was silent, but so bright he had to cover his eyes. The room shook and Draco fell to the ground, covering his head, heart beating louder than anything other than his ragged breath.

After a few moments he opened his eyes. The cabinet was smoking and in splinters. All around, things smoked with small flames. There were smears of blood and gore everywhere. Draco felt bile rise in his throat and he promptly vomited before vanishing it away with his wand, leaving no evidence that he was alive after the blast.

It was only seconds later, but felt like much longer in the strange silence, that the door opened and Snape rushed in, eyes wide. When they landed on Draco, his expression softened, but only for a moment.

"It was silent," Draco said, his ears ringing as if it hadn't been.

"A charm on the room," Snape said, moving to him, stepping over the gore to grab his arm. "The sound was delayed, pushed forward in time. You can't be here when the sound returns. We have to go _now_."

"Alright," Draco said, more bile rising in his throat as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a mess of black and silver hair. "Alright."

With a firm pressure, Snape gripped Draco's arm. In his other hand, he held the Hand of Glory - a gift from Draco's mother, given to him for this night. They vanished and Snape led them, silently, out of the room, leaving the door cracked so the chaos could be discovered.

Snape led him, quickly, nearly running, through the halls until he came to a corridor Draco had never been in. It was a corridor lined with single doors. They came to one near the middle, no different than the rest. Snape waved is wand and it swung open. He pulled dRaco darted in, the door closing behind them, just as the sound of the explosion caused the walls around them to vibrate.

From where they were, they couldn't hear the cacophony that Draco was sure would result from the sound of the explosion. The screams of students, the stomping of dozens of feet flocking toward the sound rather than away. The shouts of professors to try and get students to their common rooms. But he knew there would be.

"I have to go," Snape said, gripping Draco's shoulder tight. "The other professors will be at the Room of Requirement. I'll need to be among them." He gripped his shoulder again, a firm squeeze, and then he was gone.

Draco looked around the room. It was a suite meant for visitors to Hogwarts, which meant it had a bath, a bedroom, and a small living area. A dumbwaiter, charmed to deliver food from the kitchens, sat in the corner near a tiny kitchenette. It was quaint. Draco already hated how separate it was from everything.

And then there was a knock on the door - rapid, light taps. He took a breath, wand in his hand, and didn't say a word.

"It's me," she said. He was silent, though he wanted nothing more than to open the door, to see her face. He'd told her he would wait for their agreed upon password. A little louder now, she said, "Crepitus."

Draco opened the door as quickly as he could and Hermione fell into the room, arms going around him. He shut, locked, and silenced the door - the protocol he'd agreed upon with Dumbledore.

"You're alright," she breathed, holding onto his neck with an iron grip. "You're OK."

"It worked," he said into her hair. "Thanks to you, it worked." He felt tears prickle his eyes, all the stress and fear from this year flowing from his body.

He was free of the Dark Lord. They wouldn't look for him. He'd done what he said - his parents would be as safe as they could be. He had the girl he'd loved for years in his arms. And -

"I love you," she said into his neck, her breath hot against his skin.

He closed his eyes and pulled her closer. "Gods, I love you, too."

She stilled, and then she softened against him. She loosened her hold on his neck to take his face in her hands. She pressed a kiss to his lips. "You're safe." She kissed his cheek. "You're free." She kissed his other cheek, her own cheeks covered with tears.

"I know you can't stay with me," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. "But - "

"I'll stay tonight," she said. "McGonagall will give me an excuse. And then. Then, I'll come every day after meals, between classes. Just a few weeks until school is over." She pressed her lips to his. "I've already spoken to McGonagall. I can bring you homework, and my notes, so you stay caught up." He groaned against her lips and she smiled.

"You'll stay tonight?" he asked, choosing to ignore that, even in exile, he'd have homework. She nodded and pulled him toward the bedroom. Kicking her shoes off, she crawled on top of the covers and held her arms out to him. They'd never done this, slept in the same place, except accidental naps while they worked in the Room. The sight of her lying on a bed, asking him to lie next to her, stirred feelings he hadn't let himself feel. But now wasn't the time for that.

Shoes off, still in button down from the day, he crawled onto the bed next to her.

With a flick of her wand, the lights in the room were extinguished. They rolled toward one another, his knee slipping between his, arms wrapping around each another, a tangle of arms and legs and breath.

In the dark, he still could still see the brilliant flash of the cabinet exploding, still felt the lack of noise where there should have been noise. Still saw the blood.

Her hands left his side and her fingers carded through his hair. "I'm sorry you had to do this," she whispered, her thumb running along his cheek.

"I'm not," he said, surprised that he meant it. "It was horrible, really horrible, but it was for something good. Wasn't it?" His voice trembled and he felt her sigh against him. For so long he'd been on the wrong side. It was terrifying switching to the right one.

"It was," she reassured him. "But that doesn't make it less hard," she said as her nose bumped into his. "But, I'm with you. For all of this. All the way. _You're not alone._"

"Are you sure?" he asked, thinking back to that night when all this started, when she'd agreed to help him escape into a new future. And just like before, she seemed to understand all that he was implying, all that he was asking of her.

"I'm sure," she said as she kissed him once, a firm press of lips.

The lay that way for a long time, staring at one another in the low moonlight from the window, until they drifted off to sleep, wrapped together.


	3. The Bond

**I am posting this _before _my brand new beta, Bella Luna 92, has a chance to look at it (because life is busy, y'all), so all errors are mine. **

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all things HP. And I love JK Rowling.**

* * *

Draco ran, feet pounding into the packed dirt of the battlefield, breaths coming in short, frantic bursts. All around, lights flashed. Voldemort was dead, but still, the battle raged on and people everywhere were screaming - some in pain, some in anger, some in glee - but he couldn't be bothered to stop and figure out if anyone needed his help. He was on a mission - his magic buzzing with the need to _move_ toward the only person in the world who he cared about more than himself.

He tripped, not because of any external stimulus, but because for a moment his magic flared painfully in his chest as if he'd been struck by a curse, and he fell, clutching his chest as a silent scream ripped from his chest. Panic flared to life and his fingertips tingled as he struggled to his feet and pushed himself onward, chasing the invisible string of magic that connected him to the witch that he would die for.

_Move,_ he silently commanded his limbs, pushing through the lingering phantom pain from whatever they were doing to his witch. _Faster. _

He broke through the edge of the battle. The sun was setting, and the trees of the Forbidden Forest looked even more menacing than usual as the daylight slipped away. But the string, that bit of magic that connected them, was pulling him there. So he went without even a beat of hesitation.

The closer he got to her, the stronger the magic hummed. By the time he could see the glow of wand light up ahead, his magic was vibrating in a way that made him think, when he finally got to her, he might explode with the force of it.

He slowed, despite his need to rush to her, and disillusioned himself. Up ahead, a circle of witches and wizards in black robes and blocked dim, sinister-looking firelight. She was there. He could feel her. This close, his heartbeat had synced with hers. Their magics recognized one another and his heart fluttered. He knew hers would, too. Knew she would know he was close. He hoped that would give her strength until he could get her.

Disillusioned now, he crept toward the firelight, afraid of what he would see. The black-robed people were packed tightly together. With the careful aiming of his wand and a nonverbal hex, an explosion 20 yards to the left had a small group of them scampering off to investigate. He used their absence to slip into the circle.

"He's here," a cackling, crackling female voice said, and he froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He knew that voice, and because of that, knew it was impossible that he was hearing it. She was dead. He'd killed her in his exploding cabinet. He'd seen her - parts of her - strewn across the Room of Requirement. "He actually came." He looked around, and though he was disillusioned, though he should be all but invisible, they were all looking at him as if they could see him. "Come out, nephew," Bellatrix cooed. He met her eyes - dark and wild and not quite human - and then he looked to her right where the one tied to his heart and his magic floated above the ground, mouth clamped shut, eyes wide and leaking tears as they stared at him.

With a thought, the disillusionment charm fell away, and his aunt Bella smirked.

"Here for your mudblood, nephew?" she asked. Her wand twitched and Hermione's eyes grew wider as blood joined the tears leaking from her eyes. He felt her pain in his bones.

Draco said nothing as his heart hammered. He wasn't afraid, though. He was angry. Righteously, completely angry. He looked at Hermione - at her pale skin, at the bruises marring her arms and neck, at her torn clothing - and his anger flared white-hot.

"I'm here for you, aunt Bella," he said, his voice as calm as a Malfoy's voice should be, belaying none of his shock at seeing her, none of his fear.

"Come to join us, have you?" she asked, twisting her wand as one might twist a knife, and Hermione coughed - silenced - and blood trickled down her chin. He felt the ache in his chest but didn't let it show.

"I've come to kill you," he said, matter-of-factly, fingers tightening on his wand.

Bellatrix stared at him for a moment, before she laughed. She laughed big and loud, her black and silver hair dancing all about as if there were wind pushing it. Her laugh sounded multi-dimensional as if it were coming from multiple mouths. It was terrifying.

"Kill me?" she asked, once she'd caught her breath, mirth still spelled across her face. The other Death Eaters tittered all around them. "My sweet nephew, whatever for?" She smiled and showed her grotesque, blackened teeth and sneered.

"You've hurt someone I love," he said, his voice deadly low. He looked back to Hermione and fresh tears dripped down her blood-and-dirt caked cheeks. He took a breath and looked back at his aunt. "And I'm going to make you suffer for it. All of you."

Bellatrix lifted her wand and Hermione floated higher, arms going out as if she were on a crucifix. "That's bloody adorable," Bella said as Hermione opened her mouth in another silent scream.

Draco stared at Hermione, his magic vibrating so hard he thought he might combust. He needed to get to her, to hold her, to take her away from this.

"Granger," he said, and her panicked, pain-filled eyes landed on him. "I've got you."

Bella started to laugh, but Draco turned and apparated away, only to appear a fraction of a second later in the air beside Hermione. He wrapped himself around her and Bella's magic was broken. They fell to the ground, Draco taking the brunt of the hit before he rolled and put his body on top of hers.

"Now!" Draco heard Potter's voice as if from a distance as he threw up the strongest, wandless shield charm he could - _protego maxima _\- surrounding himself and his love, hunkering over her body like a human shield. All around, outside his bubble, flashes of light and screaming ensued. Potter and the others - Weasley, Longbottom, Weaslette, Lovegood, and a host of other Order and DA members ambushed the Death Eaters.

"Draco." Her voice was soft, like candlelight, and he leaned up enough to see her face in the flashes from the surrounding wands.

"I've got you," he said again, pressing his cracked lips to her sweaty forehead. Salty trails of blood and tears marred her cheeks. He could feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest and it grounded him as his beat to the same rhythm.

"Draco."

He curled more tightly around her, strengthening his shield charm. He didn't dare try to disapparate them away in the middle of the battle.

He heard his aunt Bella scream curses. He heard his aunt Bella scream in pain, her voice fragmented again as if she weren't quite human. She couldn't be, since she'd already died once. But before he could think too hard about what she was - horcrux or demon or something horribly in between - her screams stopped and the forest grew quiet.

As soon as it had started, it was over.

No more curses flew, but still Draco held Hermione beneath his shield charm. Her fingers gripped the sides of his shirt.

"Malfoy," Potter's voice cut through the quiet and Draco hazarded a look up. He was surrounded by the witches and wizards on his side - on _their _side.

Malfoy lowered the shield and stood, putting his arms beneath Hermione's legs and under her shoulders to hold her against him. She held onto his neck, her arm slung over his neck, her face pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

"Is she alright?" Weasley asked, his voice strained.

"She is," he said, adjusting her weight in his arms. "I think. I need to get her to a healer to be sure." He tightened his grip on her as she tightened her grip on him.

"So, it worked," Potter stated more than asked. "The marriage bond led you to her." His expression was tired and resigned. He'd killed Voldemort only a few hours earlier, and with this group of Death Eaters dead all around them, the battle was - hopefully - nearing its end.

"I told you it would," Hermione said softly. She turned her face from Draco's neck but kept her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"Can you reverse it?" Weasley asked, his voice raw, from just beside Harry in the near dark. The small fire that the Death Eaters had conjured was fading, and in that very dim light, Draco could see the unadulterated hope on his dirty face.

"Yes," Hermione said, her voice quiet, but firm. "But we won't."

Draco hadn't realized he was nervous, hadn't realized his heart was in his throat and his muscles were tight enough to snap until she said those words. _Yes. But we won't. _She wanted the marriage bond to remain. She wanted it.

"'Mione - " Weasley began, but Hermione started to cough, clutching her stomach, and Draco tightened his grip on here once more.

"She needs to go see a healer," Draco said, trying to keep his voice soft. Weasley's eyes darted to him, angry and broken, and Draco felt a moment of remorse and guilt. In another life, it would be Weasley holding Hermione, loving her, willing to give his life for her. And in this life, maybe it _should_ be him instead of Draco. But it wasn't. And Draco wasn't about to let go of the one perfect thing in his life.

That being said, the pain on Weasley's face stirred something in him. "Hold on," he said with a sigh. Gently, he lowered Hermione so that she was standing beside him and she sagged against him. From his pocket, he pulled two sickles. He squeezed them, said a silent charm, and they warmed in his hand.

"Trackers," he said, placing one in Hermione's pocket and the other in Weasley's hand, before hoisting his witch back into his arms. "I'll find a healer, get her checked out, and activate it so you'll know where to come." Draco swallowed, his mouth dry.

Weasley took the sickle and his shoulders fell. He nodded, his eyes never leaving Hermione.

"You can get her there OK?" Potter asked, jaw tight as the sound of fighting grew louder again near the castle. "Sounds like we have a bit more to do."

"I have her," Draco said. "Send a Patronus when it's done."

Harry gave him a single, succinct nod, then turned toward his rag-tag group. "Let's go finish this."

Weasley lingered for a breath longer than the rest. "Take care of her," he said, voice full of pain - the pain of battle, the pain of losing the girl he was supposed to have loved, the pain of growing up too fast.

"I will." Draco tightened his grip on Hermione's legs again. And then Weasley was off and he and his witch were alone in the total darkness.

"Hermione - " he said, but she leaned forward and captured his lips before he could say anything else, her breath puffing over his lips gently, causing the magic in his chest to hum with satisfaction and want.

"You came for me," she said against his lips, her voice trembling even as her arms wrapped around his neck tighter.

"Where else would I be?" he asked, pressing his lips to her forehead, kissing her cheekbones, which tasted slightly of blood. "We need to get you to a healer," he said.

"Not yet," she said, gently disengaging from him and sliding down his body to stand, though she needed him for support the whole way. "First - " she took a deep, steadying breath. "The bond."

"The marriage bond," he said, heart hammering as hard as it had the day she found him in the Room of Requirement.

"I told them we wouldn't break it." Her voice was small. "I didn't ask you first." She closed her eyes and her breath trembled again. "I know we did it as a safety measure, to find each other, but - "

"I want to keep it," he said, his fingers gripping her waist tightly, but not tightly enough to hurt her. "If you do, I want to." He stepped closer, though their chests were already pressed together. "I love you," he breathed.

Hermione sagged with relief. She melted against him and sobbed once. He held her - his arms around her waist, hers around his neck.

"Are you sure?" she asked, echoing the many times he's said those same words to her - when he first kissed her, the night he'd destroyed the cabinet, the night he'd proposed, the first time they'd made love.

"I'm sure," he said, his lips pillowing hers as their breath mixed softly.

"Good," she said with a smile against his lips.

"After all this," Draco said, pulling her back up into his arms - stronger now than they'd been when they first collided in the Room of Requirement all those months ago. "I'd like to take you on a date," he said, adjusting his grip around her small body so that he would be sure not to drop her during apparition. "To dinner, or to a show. Anything, really."

"Whatever you want," she sighed against his neck, her lips brushing his skin softly and setting his heart racing.

"I want to take you to a healer," he said, and he felt her nod even as her heart rate slowed to a more normal speed, along with his.

Back toward the castle, the sounds of battle had faded away. The fire the Death Eaters had lit was gone, and in the dark of the Forbidden Forest, his witch wrapped in his arms, Draco felt a peace like he'd never felt before.

With a kiss to her forehead, he twisted, and with a pop, they were gone.


End file.
